Vaughn Heppner - Invasion - Colorado

Zhu sat on a motorcycle-style seat as he gripped two handlebars. Before him was a small windshield. His booted feet also rested on bars. He rode outside with the cold wind. So did other Eagle flyers of Tian Jintao’s squad. They were high in the sky tonight. The stars looked like gems, each cold and precise in the heavens.

Zhu’s helmet was closed and he’d dressed warmly, but that didn’t help after forty-five minutes in the night air. He shivered, wishing he could sit before a glowing orange heater. Since he was so skinny, he didn’t retain heat as well as the others did.

They were on Partisan Standby. It meant the Z4A had climbed up high into the sky, loitering. American ears had grown wary, and partisans bolted at the first sound of Chinese helos. So command had decided on a new tactic: up and out of sight and sound until the instant of partisan combat.

High-flying modified AWACS watched the ground for partisans. Once spotted, this battle-taxi could zoom. The new modification to the Z4A was afterburner-equipped tri-jets.

Zhu had been on several afterburner runs. They were wild rides, exhilarating and fast . The trouble was, few Eagle flyers could dismount in the accepted manner when the battle-taxi flew that fast. Once the Eagle commando stood up to launch, the wind hit him hard, pushing him back into his seat. The trick was to fall backward like a skydiver.

For the moment, as his teeth chattered, Zhu tried to figure out how to enjoy the patrol. He was cold and getting colder. He studied the nearby Rocky Mountains. They were majestic, but their snowy sides…no, looking at them just made him shiver more. The ground was far below. The distant I-25—it went north to south—was the tiniest of ribbons. On that route went most Chinese supplies to the PAA Third Front.

Zhu’s helmet crackled with sound. “Soldier Rank Zhu,” he heard.

Zhu chinned his controls. “Yes, First Rank.”

“I’m so cold my balls are going to freeze off,” Tian complained. “How I am going to please the hot American women then? Tell me that.”

Zhu blinked in confusion. Was this a code? Orders mandated quiet from Eagle flyers during a combat air patrol. Tian must have spotted something vitally important to break radio silence.

“Are we jumping?” Zhu asked.

“No,” Tian said. “I told you my balls are cold. That means I’m freezing. How do you keep yourself warm?”

Oh, Zhu understood. Tian must realize how easily he became cold. The beefy First Rank must be saying this to make him feel better. It was thoughtful of Tian, but it made Zhu uncomfortable. Does he think I’m too weak to take the cold?

“First Rank,” Zhu said in a chiding voice. “Orders state we must maintain radio silence.”

“I’m too cold to be silent,” Tian said. “If I have to sit another moment with my thoughts, I’m jumping off and going to ground where it’s warmer.”

“The officers would mark you AWOL.”

Tian chuckled. “Zhu, Zhu, Zhu, why are you so serious all the time? Aren’t you cold?”

Instead of answering—he never wanted to lie to Tian—Zhu said, “What if the officers hear our radio chatter?”

“You were a Hero of Los Angeles and now you’re worried about a few prissy officers?” Tian asked. “Soldier Rank, are you worried about a few demerits?”

This must be a secret test. Zhu nodded to himself. Tian and likely officers wish to see if I have moral courage. I cannot show moral cowardice. Yet, I am supposed to obey orders. I don’t know what to do .

“Are you still there, Soldier Rank? Or have you already jumped off to get warm?”

“I am at my post,” Zhu said.

“Are you cold?”

“No, First Rank,” Zhu said.

“Did you just lie to me?”

“Well…” Zhu said, “Yes, I’m a little cold.”

“So a Hero of Los Angeles is mortal after all.”

Zhu had a won a Hero of China medal for his actions in Los Angeles. “First Rank, I wish you would not mock my efforts in California.”

“Do you remember that my mother went to an astrologer before I left and she discovered that I wouldn’t die in North America?”

“I remember,” Zhu said.

“I wonder if the astrologer was true or if she was a charlatan like people say they are. If she was false, it means I might die here. This country is so big, and there are so many Americans who take up their guns to fight us—do you think we can win this war?”

“China cannot lose,” Zhu said.

“Why is that?” Tian asked.

“We fight better,” Zhu said in surprise. “We have the greatest soldiers in history. The Americans have retreated constantly before us. It is impossible for us to lose.”

“That’s a nice speech, Soldier Rank. Now tell me what you really think.”

“I’m…” Zhu glanced to his left. First Rank Tian looked at him. The big commando raised an arm and waved.

Zhu let go of a handlebar and waved back.

“I have a report of a band of partisans, First Rank Tian,” the Z4A’s pilot said. “They’ve blown up three trucks nine kilometers from our position. Are your commandos ready for a dive?”

“Get set, Eagle flyers,” Tian radioed the others with wide band. “We’re going down.”

Zhu gripped the handlebars with both hands. He lowered his head and heard the ripping wind pass his ears. Sometimes when the afterburners roared hottest, wind slipped over the windshield. He’d seen a flyer torn out of his seat before.

The Z4A modified battle-taxi tipped earthward. A second later, the helo shot forward. Afterburners roared and orange flame flickered.

Zhu’s fingers slipped. He tightened his hold and crouched lower still. He shifted his feet as he leaned as low as he could, managing to get his boots in front of the foot bars. The tri-jet afterburners didn’t let up. As they dove, it was a struggle to remain on his cycle-seat.

“Ease up on your dive,” Tian radioed the pilot.

“Orders,” the pilot said. “I’m to dive at maximum speed.”

“And if your orders kill us by tumbling commandos, whose head do you think will roll?” Tian asked.

The battle-taxi eased up in its dive, giving Zhu time to re-grip the bars and lean into a better position.

“If we’re late…” the pilot said.

“Don’t threaten me,” Tian said, and there was menace in his voice.

The pilot didn’t say anything more, nor did they increase speed again. Zhu could understand the pilot’s fear. He’d fought Tian before and lost miserably. But losing a fight didn’t mean you backed down. He would rather take the blows of a beating than show cowardice.

The First Rank fed them data as he received it. The ground rushed nearer and I-25 had grown considerably. Zhu could see a blaze on the road. The partisans must have struck an oil hauler.

“Was the partisan strike by mine or machine gun?” Zhu asked.

“Looks like both,” Tian told him.

“There!” another Soldier Rank cried. “Look at three-dash-five. They’re riding motorcycles, two people per vehicle.”

Zhu swiveled his helmet while turning on the HUD coordinates. He spied the partisans with his night vision. The motorcycles fled for a forest three kilometers away. If the Americans reached those trees, it would be hard to find and kill them.

The Z4A swept out of the night sky like a proverbial bat out of hell. The afterburners and dive gave the helo speed.

“They’re splitting up!” the Soldier Rank shouted.

“We can hear you just fine,” Tian said. “There’s no need to shout.”

“Which motorcycle do you want me to follow?” the pilot asked.

Tian was quiet for a moment. Then he began to instruct the pilot and the team. “Zhu, you and Qiang will take the left motorcycle.”